


Bullets and Bandages

by strawwolf



Category: Lyatt - Fandom, Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawwolf/pseuds/strawwolf
Summary: During the car chase the police are a little overzealous in their pursuit. Of course this puts our team squarely in their cross-hairs. Will they come out the other side?





	1. Chapter 1

Wyatt hopped in the car and gunned it. By the time they exited the track the hi-way patrol were following them in a genuine car chase. It handled a little heavy but it was a familiar weight. He couldn’t help grinning as the rush he remembered from bootlegging came back. The plume of dust kicked up behind the car, the wail of sirens, the smell of engine oil. 

“Wyatt, I don’t know if you know this, but the bomb is pressure-sensitive and we are going really fast.”

“I get it Rufus.”

“Good, because if you so much as hit a bug, we’re done.”

“Well, in order to get away from them, Rufus, I might need to hit a couple of bugs.” 

A glance in the mirror told Wyatt the cops were gaining on them. Alright so maybe they were a little more used to driving big heavy behemoths than he was but he had Tokyo Drift on his side. He was sure they weren’t going to get caught. That’s when the shooting started.

“Guys, they’re gonna hit us!” Lucy looked out the back window, alarmed at how close they were but she wasn’t afraid until one stuck his arm out the window, pistol in hand.

She ducked to the seat just in time as the glass shattered above her. She squeaked, Rufus swore and Wyatt grit his teeth. 

“Lucy stay down! Rufus you too.”

Bent over the steering wheel, Wyatt found the line of calm that he’d cultivated in Delta Force. More shots rang out, loud and concussive, now that the back window was blown out. He let the sounds blend into the roar of the engine and the rumble of the tires, his focus entirely on the end goal of Scott’s garage. 

They swept down the road, churning the South Carolina dirt into a fine powder. Thanks to a hairpin turn they pulled ahead of the cops and made up precious seconds on the bridge. They raced towards the garage entrance where Wyatt  put his skills to use swinging the car around, tires protesting as he kicked the car into reverse backing into the garage. Scott slammed the door down and watched the cops drive on by.

Wyatt heaved a huge sigh of relief and brushed a hand through his hair. He turned to Rufus who was unharmed but seemingly disturbed by his driving style. 

 “Hey Luce you can get…” He turned to the back seat and saw Lucy lying down, not moving, eyes closed. “Lucy!”

Wyatt reached down to grab her shoulder when he noticed the blood on the seat, a dark stain on her sweater. 


	2. Chapter 2

Rufus looked back and panicked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Wyatt hopped out of the car to get to the back door. “I think she was shot.

His hand went to her neck for a pulse. A weak but steady beat met his fingers. Careful not to jostle her he tried to find the entry and exit wound. Judging from where she was lying he looked along her back and found a small tear in the sweater. Following its trajectory he found the bullet lodged in the back of his seat. He hadn’t felt it or heard Lucy say a thing. Acrid feelings of guilt and fear burbled up in his throat but he pushed them down in favour of focusing on Lucy.

“If we move her we might make things worse but if we don’t she’s gonna bleed to death.”

He gently put his his hands under her arms and pulled her along the seat towards the door. With Rufus’ help they got her onto a worktable that Scott had cleared. 

She looked pale and felt light. He thought back to their conversation about what had happened at Rittenhouse. It didn’t escape his notice that she’d clammed up and made excuses.

“Rufus! Do we still have that first aid kit?”

“Yup.” The man fumbled for the box Scott had handed over. 

Wyatt gingerly lifted her sweater to find her abdomen covered in blood. By his reckoning she’d lost two pints and passed out. He wasn’t a doctor and didn’t have access to modern medicine or a hospital. The possibilities of how he was going to save Lucy raced through his mind, most leading to capture and death. But first, he had to keep her alive.

“Wendell I’m gonna need some of your moonshine.”

“Happy to help,” the man pulled out a jug of his homebrew. “She gonna be ok?” Scott looked on, concerned. But truly the idea of someone dying in his garage gave him the heebie jeebies. 

“If I have something to say about it, yeah.” Wyatt pulled up the sweater heavy with blood to expose the entry wound, jagged and deceptively small. “You better hold her still.” He looked to Rufus who gently gripped her shoulders.

The slow spill of alcohol had an immediate effect as Lucy jerked awake and tried to gasp in pain and shock but coughed herself hoarse instead. 

“What happened?” She croaked.

“Cops were shooting at us and you decided to get in their way.” He gave a tight smile and hoped he looked reassuring.

“That was dumb of me.”

She grimaced as Wyatt quickly patched her up. The bench grew slick with red and he tried not to look too hard at his fingers because he’d been here before in a room where death hovered, just looking for an opening. It was slow going and once he finished he could see the red stain eating through the bandages. It was a patch job at best.

Wyatt pulled Rufus aside while Lucy held a hand over the bandages. “She needs a hospital,” he whispered. “She’s probably got internal damage and if we stay here she’s probably gonna die. The bandages are at best a patch job. The probably won’t hold an hour.

“Okay. But we’ve got cops out looking for us and they know Ryan’s car. How are we supposed to get back to the Mothership?” Rufus felt the familiar niggle of anxiety creep up as he looked over at Lucy who was at best holding onto consciousness 

“I’ve got a really bad idea.” He looked over at Scott’s car. “Hey Wendell, do you mind giving us a ride back to our vehicle?”

The poor man gave them a look and crossed his arms. “Will this ride involve the cops?” 

Wyatt wouldn’t look him in the eye. “…Maybe. But we’d be out of your hair for good. Deal?”

Scott sighed and shook his head. “I reckon I could do that if it means I can get back to racing. No offence but catching communists just isn’t my thing. But shouldn’t we be getting her to a doctor?”

“We’ve got doctors where we’re going.” Rufus jumped in. 

While he and Scott rigged up a makeshift backboard for Lucy, Wyatt walked over to see how she was doing.

“So. What’s the plan?” Lucy looked up at him, eyes glazed, breath shallow and laboured. He was sure she’d fractured a rib or two which meant they have to move carefully, hence the backboard.

“We might need to let Wendell in on our secret.” 

“Too dangerous,” she said, closing her eyes, hand braced over now red bandages. 

“We may not have a choice,” Wyatt frowned. 

“Denise won’t like it.”

“Well she’s not here.”

“Then you get to explain to her why a 1950s NASCAR racer knows about time travel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked but she only sighed in response and cleared the phlegm in her throat, brow pinched. He clenched his jaw and said nothing. The sooner they got back the better.

Together they quickly loaded her into Rusty and after some maneuvering with Ryan’s car they were off. Scott and Rufus were up front and Wyatt in the back, looking after Lucy. 

He grimaced at every bump and jerk and watched as the crease in her brow grew. A hand to the shoulder steadied her and brought a smile to her lips, her hand reaching up to touch his.

“Will you stop worrying? I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll believe that when a doctor clears you.”

“And until then I’ve got the two of you looking after me.”

He didn’t respond but squeezed her shoulder as they careened over another dip in the road. 

Rufus gave directions and while the Mothership was close it was also secluded and might as well have been days away considering the sense of urgency felt by all. Time grew precious as Wyatt felt Lucy’s grip weaken.

“Just hold on Luce.” 

He swept his fingers over her brow and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears. When her hand went limp he checked her pulse. It was sluggish at best. He pinched her arm but got no response. The bandage left blood on his hand and that fluttering panic was starting to set in again.

“Wendell we need to go faster.” 

Hearing the panic in his voice Rufus looked over his shoulder to see Wyatt trying to hold Lucy still with both arms. 

They squealed into the clearing not long after and tried to ignore Wendell’s reaction. 

“Y’all realize your ride looks like a ufo?”

Rufus jumped in while Wyatt carried Lucy up to the ship. 

“Yup it’s built that way on purpose to fool the Rus- the Soviets. It’s part of our “Commie Hunter” equipment and because it’s a secret government vehicle I need to swear you to secrecy because otherwise it could compromise our investigation and national security. You understand of course.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Wendell was only half-paying attention as he looked over the ship and its construction. It looked like one of those spaceships from Flash Gordon.

“Thanks for all your help. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Rufus held out his hand and gave Wendell a firm shake. The racer returned it with a nod that was more of a bob but brought a smile to the pilot’s face. 

“Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it.” 

He raced off to the ship where Wyatt was struggling to buckle Lucy in with one hand and hold her upright with the other. He didn’t want her slumping over those ribs just in case. Together they got her strapped in and Rufus dialed up the machine. 

With a whoosh they arrived back at the bunker. 


	3. Chapter 3

Rufus ducked out to get a medic and tell everyone what had happened while Wyatt unbuckled Lucy. She was limp and as far as he could tell, still bleeding as her bandages were soaked through. What felt like minutes ticked by as he waited, jiggling his leg as he pressed his fingers down on Lucy’s bandages. A useless exercise but it kept his mind and hands occupied.

One of Agent Christopher’s agents ran in with a medical bag over one shoulder. Together they managed to lift Lucy onto a movable cot and then into a room they’d designated the Medward. Wyatt was shoved out of the room as they were cutting the bandages off her. 

“He’s knows what he’s doing?” He turned to Denise, fingers itching and covered in red.

“He’s an expert field medic and he’s the best we’ve got at the moment.” She pulled out her phone and walked off, placing a call. 

This of course left Rufus and Wyatt to stand outside and wait but Jiya pulled her boyfriend away soon enough. She fussed over his bandages, giving him a strange look. 

Wyatt was left to stew alone, guilt and memory overcoming him until he was forced to sit down. 

_Not again._

For a moment he was back in a dusty hospital, the smell of antiseptic burning the smell of blood out of his nose. The mechanical buzz of overhead lights and the murmur of low voices the only sounds apart from the whine in his head. His head kept swiveling to the doors that led to Surgery, helmet heavy in his hand. His uniform was hot, he could feel the grime of sand and sweat settling into uncomfortable places. And suddenly he couldn’t breathe so he stood, mouth wide as he gulped air like water and as his vision swam the hospital faded into the bunker. He stumbled to a wall and braced himself, waiting until the world tilted back into place.

Some forty-five minutes later or what felt like two eternities, the medic exited and conferred with Agent Christopher who called everyone over.

“She’s stable. We’re going to transport her to a nearby hospital for surgery.”

“I’m going with her.” Wyatt wasn’t going to let her go there alone. He’d already lost her once. He was adamant about it never happening again.

She pursed her lips and frowned at him. “We’re already taking a risk by getting her proper medical attention. You’ll only be putting her in greater danger.” 

Torn between protection and risk he was stuck, unsure of whether he should fight to go or acquiesce.

“Could we maybe compromise?” Jiya stared knowingly at Wyatt’s face. She wasn’t about to put up with him going stir-crazy yet again. “What if Wyatt stays here during the surgery but afterwards can visit her in recovery?”

Christopher nodded. “That’s acceptable. Wyatt?”

He nodded and bit his tongue to keep from saying something he’d regret. He watched as her pale figure was loaded onto a gurney and taken out of the bunker. Before he could start pacing Jiya shoved Nicolas’ manifesto in his hands. 

“Lucy made a few notes. See what you think.”

“Jiya I can’t just-”

“It’ll keep your mind off of her for the next few hours. All the books she references in the footnotes are in your room.”

He harrumphed and went off to go read and hopefully stay out of trouble. In their room he grabbed a handful of books from the slowly growing pile and on impulse took a blanket off her bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. 

The only phone in the bunker was an old rotary Mason had set up in his office as Agent Christopher was adamant about Rittenhouse’s ability to hack and track, confiscating everything with WiFI capability. So that’s where Wyatt camped out. He dumped the books on the desk, settled down in the chair and ignored all of Mason’s complaints about the annexation of his office. 

Keyne’s manifesto was a mess of bigotry, imperialism and anger. Wyatt had never met the man but could guess he was a raving lunatic. He talked about what he called “key events” and how they should be changed to “make the world a better place” though from experience he knew it would only make the world better for Rittenhouse. 

Mason really had screwed up when he’d invented the time machine. “I mean hasn’t the guy seen Back to the Future?” He wondered aloud. 

While he found himself immersed he was also checking his watch every 15 minutes and his eyes would stray the phone, willing it to ring. And Lucy was front of mind. He was reading her notes, turning to pages she’d marked, ducking his head into the blanket and breathing in her scent.

At one point, it might have been two or three in the morning when he stumbled into the kitchen, his stomach loudly begging for sustenance. He’d gobbled down a few protein bars, eschewing the MREs Mason had insisted on buying to make their bunker experience more “authentic”. He stuffed more bars in his pockets so he wouldn’t have to leave the phone again and chugged a large glass of water. On his way back to the room he heard the phone ring. Running into the room he grabbed the received. 

“Hello?”

“Wyatt?” Agent Christopher answered. 

“How is she?”

“You better get down here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Wyatt raced from the bunker and tripped the alarm in the process. The blare of the siren muted as he dropped the hatch lid with a bang and loped towards the lone vehicle in the lot. A beat-up chevy wasn’t his idea of a fast ride and the muffler was shot but the luxury of choice wasn’t something he could afford to complain about.

The agent in charge of the ‘abandoned’ lot raised a brow as he watched from the treeline. Logan had looked panicked as he burned a line in the pavement bombing out of there but Christopher had warned him when she left not to get in his way.

Bumping along the cracked asphalt Wyatt prayed the truck wouldn’t shake apart as he turned onto the highway, foot to the floor. He may as well have had blinders on for all that he saw anything on the road but the road right in front of him. That tunnel-vision focus almost got him side-swiped as a semi changed lanes without warning. It didn’t help that the sun had set and rain had made the pavement slick and reflective.

His hands hurt from how hard he gripped the wheel and by the time he peeled into the hospital parkade he had to peel his skin off the vinyl. He practically ripping his receipt from the slot and ran into Emergency only to find the place was packed.

Every seat was occupied with people in various stages of distress. An older man with an oxygen tank was gesticulating to a younger woman, nearly hitting Wyatt in the face. A glance at the front desk nearly had him groan aloud. They had a ticket system, now serving number 78. The dispenser near the door spit out “98″ into his hand and he had to fight to keep from punching a wall.

With a great deal of control he forced himself into a corner and picked up a men’s health magazine from 2005, flipping through the pages without glancing too hard at anything in particular. One eye was on the counter, the other on the door. He would argue that the threat of Rittenhouse had simply made him alert, not paranoid but the stress of the past few hours definitely had him edging closer to full panic than he’d been in a long time.

He leg bounced absently, as his eyes triangled between the counter, the door and the clock. He made the circuit at least 146 times before he lost count.

“98!”

A voice rang out over the crowd and Wyatt shot up, magazine falling to the ground and he practically flew to the front desk.

“Hi. I’m looking for a Lucy Preston. She was brought in for surgery with a gunshot wound.”

The woman behind the desk didn’t appear to be in any hurry as she tapped the keys on her computer one finger at a time and adjusted her glasses, squinting at the screen for what seemed like weeks.

“She’s been moved into recovery, Room 319. If you’re visiting please sign in here and note the ti-.”

He grabbed the pen in the holder and dashed off a completely illegible scribble as his name, guessed at the time and dashed through the doors. The nearest elevator was conveniently right in front of him but when he tapped the button he had to stand still, something he was never very good at. And tapping the button repeatedly of course did nothing but aggravate him so he looked down the hallway and found the nearest stairwell instead, taking the steps three at a time.

It took some time as he loped down the hallways, following signs until he spotted Agent Christopher and an unknown agent standing in front of a door. He skidded to a halt in front of her, took a deep breath and reiterated his original question to her.

“How is she?”

“Stable. For now. The bullet apparently broke several ribs which pierced her lung. There were some complications during surgery and they have her on a ventilator no-”

Wyatt stepped past her and pushed open the door. Lucy was in a hospital bed, still and silent with all sorts of tubes and wires connecting her to machines. He felt his heart in his ears as he slowly walked up to her. They had her in a hospital gown that was voluminous on her and she somehow looked worse than when he buckled her into the Lifeboat.

The ventilator whirred up and down, the heart monitor gently beeped. He reached down to grab hold of her hand and found her cold to the touch which just made him tighten his grip.

“They’re worried she might develop pneumonia.” He heard a voice behind him and dropped her hand to turn and see Christopher had quietly entered the room.

“How long does she have to stay?” Her recovery was important but they both knew the greater danger lay with Rittenhouse. If she was discovered…

“It depends on when she comes off the ventilator.”

“But you’re going to post someone outside right?”

“At all times, until she’s back in the bunker yes.”

He felt part of the coil in his shoulders unwind. “I’m staying.”

“I thought you might,” she muttered. “But you’ll be under house arrest. You are not under any circumstances to leave the building. If a mission comes up someone will be by to relieve you. Agreed?”

He nodded. The idea of being cooped up didn’t appeal to him but at least this way he could stay with Lucy.

“I’m heading back but I’m leaving Agent Theirin behind. If you need anything call me on my cell.” She handed him what he assumed was a burner cell and with that she left.

With that the two of them were left alone. Wyatt pulled up a chair and tried to ignore the tube in her mouth and the slackness in her face.

“Hey.” He took hold of her hand, holding it between both of his to warm her up. “You’re lucky you missed dinner. Jiya cooked again. Mac and cheese. Even Rufus couldn’t choke it down. You really…” He choked and couldn’t finish the idiom.

For a long while he watched her face but the steady beep of the heart monitor and whir of the ventilator lulled him to sleep. He jerked awake sometime later, his head snapped up from his chest.

Blinking he ran a hand through his hair and used the private bathroom to splash cold water on his face. A glance at the mirror revealed a haggard man with the threat of stubble on his face. He hadn’t slept in at least a day, having caught a few hours before their mission. Mostly he’d just stared up at the ceiling and worried, unable to sleep. Now thought he couldn’t afford to doze, meaning he had to go in search of coffee. Before leaving he took one last look at her.

“I’ll be right back.”

Outside he gave the agent a nod and walked off to find the cafeteria. Forty minutes later he was still looking. Following signs, arrows and painted lines on the floor didn’t appear to be helping as he kept getting distracted only to have to backtrack and start over. When he finally arrived he found it was as crowded as Emergency had been. The line up almost reached out the door and he wasn’t interested in being away from Lucy for that long. So instead he turned around and hunted until he found a caffeine vending machine, plinked some coins into a vending machine and watched as a weak stream of pre-made brew sputtered into a cup.

One sip had him shuddering. A burnt aftertaste made him think it was the tail end of a batch but he grit his teeth and downed it anyway. He couldn’t afford to mess with his sleep cycle by napping at 2pm and needed to be awake to keep an eye on Lucy. He made a face and downed the rest and crushed the cup before tossing it out.

On his return he saw several nurses exiting her room. Fear grabbed hold of his chest as he rushed up to them.

“What happened?”

“She woke up so we took her breathing tube out. You can go in if you like.” An older woman with purple scrubs smiled at him.

He entered to find a very tired Lucy lying in bed. She smiled when she saw him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He took a seat next to her and fisted his hands in his lap to keep from reaching out to her. “How are you feeling?”

She chuckled and gave him a lazy grin. “Kinda loopy actually. They put me on painkillers and I feel a little floaty. We’re not in the bunker are we?”

“No. You’re at the nearest hospital but there’s an agent just outside.”

She sighed sleepily. “I don’t need an agent.”

He frowned. “Lucy, we had to use your real name to get you admitted. Rittenhouse could easily find you. That’s why we need the agent.”

She shook her heard. “I don’t need them. I’ve got you.”

He could feel his face flush down to his neck as he cleared his throat to cover his shock. “You must be really doped up if you think I can take on Rittenhouse alone if they stop by.”

“Wyatt I might be high but I know you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

His smile faltered at the admission and he ducked his head to hide it.

“Hey you don’t get to feel guilty about this.”

“Lucy,” he sighed.

“You know you saved my life right?” She yawned, blinking slowly at him. “If you hadn’t driven that fast and hidden in Scott’s garage…”

“I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Mmmhmm.” She sank back into her pillow, clearly struggling to stay awake. “Wyatt?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you stay? Just till I fall asleep?” 

“Sure. Just till you fall asleep.” 

She smiled and closed her eyes, relaxing into the bed. He watched over her until his own eyes started to droop. Hours later both were fast asleep, Lucy cocooned by a soft pillow and blankets and Wyatt bent over her bed, head cradled in his elbow, their hands joined.


End file.
